


Vanilla

by nwildflowers



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, References to Addiction, References to Depression, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28126011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nwildflowers/pseuds/nwildflowers
Summary: At seventeen, Willow Ellis thought she would be the dancing queen, young and sweet, having the time of her life. However, that has not turned out to be the case. Maybe it would be different if her family hadn't left the Outer Banks three quarters of a decade ago?When tragedy strikes her family and they move back across the country to reside in the isles of the Carolinas, Willow finds herself confronting old feelings, evaluating the person she has become and intending not to fall in love with boys she once treated like brothers. As the hunt for treasure ensues and the Pogues adventures take them into further questionable situations, Willow finds herself flashing smiles at a certain blonde boy far too often for her own liking.started: July 21st 2020finished: ---originally posted to wattpad
Relationships: JJ (Outer Banks)/Original Character(s), JJ (Outer Banks)/Original Female Character(s), Kiara/John B. Routledge





	1. Scratched Vinyl

It was supposed to be the year of being the dancing queen, being only seventeen and all of the adventures you’re supposed to partake in when you’re newly seventeen. However, thus far the summer had been dreadfully boring and absolutely none of the things movies, books and fictional characters had promised to Willow Ellis had occurred. The only even vaguely romantic thing about herself was her head of curly blonde hair and the fact that she had properly secured a good nickname for herself. Even her parents had slowly begun to adapt to calling her Willa. 

Life was not bad, Willa could not complain about the cards she had been dealt; her parents were still married, their combined income had just tipped into six figures, they were mostly supportive of her, she did things she loved, she did well in school, she had a few close friends and was considered an overall nice person. And that was how life went, mundane and normal. 

The house Willa had lived in since age ten reeked of the seventies, from the orange countertops to cedar ceilings, but all of those things were quite endearing. The thing that was  _ not  _ endearing was the lack of air conditioning in the house and the sweltering dry heat of an Oregon summer. To be fair, Oregon summers were really not that hot, not compared to southern summers on coastal islands like the one she had endured her younger years, but she’d become accustomed to the rural Oregon dust and sunshine too much to consider that the Carolinas would be absolutely roasting this time of year.

Staring at the living room ceiling, contemplating for the millionth time what an absolute fire hazard it was to have cedar ceilings  _ and  _ cedar exterior siding, she heard her mother’s voice answer the phone. Over the sound of fans attempting to circulate air through the sweltering house she couldn’t hear what was being said, but the tone took an increasingly harrowed turn. When the conversation ended, her mother descended into the sunken living room and sank into the couch. 

“That was Liza,” she said.

“And?” Willa said, expecting the worst.

“Jack. He ah, he was out this afternoon on the boat.”

“Okay?” Willa said, still confused because going out on your boat in the Outer Banks was not abnormal.

“And suddenly collapsed. And went into cardiac arrest. They couldn’t revive him.”

“Oh,” Willa said, falling into silence, not knowing how to respond. She’d never been told that a close family member had died before. Uncle Jack was her mom’s brother, the native to the Outer Banks side of the family.

“Liza wants us to come. Help with the hotel for a while. For the summer at least.”

Willa nodded slowly and moved to give her mother a hug. This wasn’t something she knew how to process well, she doubted her mom knew how to process it either. She barely even knew Uncle Jack anymore, she hadn’t spoken face to face with him in years and rarely communicated with him over text; her recollection of him existed only in memories of being a kid on the the island and learning how to surf, fish, operate a boat and help in the hotel when it was just getting started. 

“What can I do Mom?”

“Nothing darling,” she said as she began to cry, leaving Willa feeling even more helpless, “we just need to leave as soon as possible.

All jokes and tragic sibling deaths aside, Willa found herself at a loss of what to feel. Her mother’s brother was suddenly dead. She was going back to her childhood home. They would be essentially taking over the now ridiculously classy hotel that six years ago barely paid for itself and now it generated enough revenue to be held at a five star hotel standard. The friendships from grade school days had long since collapsed and descended into nothing. She wasn’t an islander anymore. She was a west coast girl that followed the rules too well and did too well in school and had pigeonholed herself into being the most vanilla girl she knew. She didn’t drink, she didn’t smoke, she didn’t sneak out, she didn’t go on adventures, she didn’t swear, she didn’t even kiss boys. Not that she didn’t want to kiss any boys or go on adventures, there just seemed to be none who wanted to kiss her back or hold her hand or dance under the stars while a scratched Glenn Miller vinyl played. 

“ _ Glenn Miller? girl you gotta get your life together. What seventeen year old daydreams about slow dancing to Glenn Miller? Get it together. The doors of tragedy have just opened the doors of opportunity. Get your ABBA shoes and put your Beach Boys hat on and get in the mood to go to the Outer Banks.” _


	2. Calm Before The Storm

Two weeks later a hurricane warning bleeped alarmingly on Willa’s phone as they boarded the last ferry of the day to the island. The water was rough but not dangerous despite her mother’s worrisome chatter. 

From the moment Willa had stepped onto the ferry she felt like she’d stepped into a waking dream. Things were the same, exactly the same as they had been seven years ago, but just a few new details here and there that the dejavu was throwing her for a loop. She felt like she was frantically sorting through memories of her childhood that only half existed. Her time on the island felt further and further away the closer she physically became. Chunks of her memory were missing and she wished she had taken the time to skim through her terribly authored journals of childhood before flying across the country. It was always a bit concerning when she couldn’t remember basic timelines from her childhood, but she supposed that was something that couldn’t be helped. At least not at the moment. Surely the people and actually being there would jog her memory of the first ten years of her life in a somewhat chronological order. 

By the time the ferry lurched to a stop the docks were completely deserted and everything was tied down as best could be for the impending storm. They sped through town, her dad taking all the old shortcuts, but taking them primarily through Figure Eight and to the hotel that provided lodging to the majority of the tourists, the family hotel. In the past seven years it had been upgraded, remodeled, added on to and redecorated more times than she could fathom and she’d seen so many pictures of different iterations of upgrades that she wasn’t even sure what it looked like anymore other than knowing it was gorgeous. 

The view did not disappoint in the least and even in sideways rain and dark skies the hotel was a stunning sight. In the back of her head Willa heard echoes of old friends and childhood laughter.

_ “When this place goes big, you’ll be Kook princess,” the dark haired boy taunted. _

_ “Never! Pogue life forever!” Willa declared. _

_ “Kook princess Kook princess,” the other boy chanted back, his blonde hair obscuring his face.  _

_ Willa frowned sourly as they continued their trek from the hotel down to the beach, vowing to never ever leave her friends for anything. Soon their fourth, and newest companion joined and the original four, three wild boys and one tomboy girl, ventured into the surf. _

Willa was pulled out of the memory by her father motioning frantically outside the car for her to get out and retrieve her things and go inside, sheltered from the impending hurricane. Once inside nothing seemed familiar anymore, what she saw in front of her did not match the memory she recalled. Looking closely, the skeleton of the memory was there, but was hidden behind classy furnishings and updates that the hotel barely even could be called home anymore. 

It made her stomach turn that she didn’t recognize the place she had once called home. She had expected the buildings to welcome her with open arms and waves of happy nostalgia, but instead there was cold perfection in the tiled floors and heavily adorned rooms. Their original owners' quarters didn’t even exist anymore. Instead she was assigned a gorgeous second story, ocean view suite. Her parents left her to marvel on her own, ushered off to their own room by a harrowed looking hostess. 

She surveyed the room and concluded that despite its obvious cookie cutter design, it could be amended over the next couple days to reflect some semblance of home. Whether the homey vibe reflected was the one she’d left on the west coast, or the one that existed only in memory from the last time she’d set foot on this island, it was certainly doable. As she unpacked her life from suitcases and into the space she came closer and closer to contemplating her real anxiety of being here.

Being back meant a lot of things, a fresh start for the summer, the chance to live the life she wished she was brave enough to, but most importantly to reconnect with old friends. Her memories of them were shrouded in ten year old glee at being one of the Pogue boys and not a girly Kook girl. She remembered the first day of first grade when John B shared carrot sticks with her because she loved carrots and he didn’t, but his dad insisted he eat them. And for two years they’d been an inseparable pair, exclusive to themselves in their friendship. By third grade, new ideas had rattled around inside the heads of all the kids and John B became far more interested in having a boy bestfriend. JJ had joined the scene and initially Willa had hated everything about him because he’d stolen her best friend. However, as childhood friendships commonly go, this was only problematic for a few weeks, despite Willa’s feeling of it being a dramatically long time. Eventually the three became the squad that ran the show, later adding in Pope to complete the crew. 

Childhood chaos drove the crew, sending them surfing on dangerous days, running through town, staying out just a bit too late and receiving telling offs from their parents. But being all under the age of ten, they did no real damage, not that Willa recalled anyway. There had been close calls and even a few broken bones by the boys, but it was all chalked up to childish mischief. 

At the completion of her last summer on the island Willa had turned ten, running amuck with the boys and receiving teasing from adults in her life for having only boy friends and ‘which one did she have a crush on?’ To that she’d always answer none, but truthfully each had taken their turn at being her current boy of interest. Not that it meant anything when she was ten, but now, sitting watching a hurricane come in, she was afraid that her childhood crushes would manifest into her current self being unable to maintain strong friendship with the people whom she’d once loved.

Despite being closest with boys on the Outer Banks, when she’d moved west coast she’d failed to make meaningful friendships with boys and had run with her girls for the past seven years. Not that that was out of the ordinary at all, it was more of the fact that she knew she was suddenly about to find herself in a position of being exceptionally bad at friendships with boys because she was inherently afraid of falling in love with them. 

It was a foolish fear that she’d been holding over herself for no good reason and every friendship she’d had in the last near decade had been dictated by an acute awareness of how boys viewed her. She so desperately wanted to be viewed as ‘one of the boys,’ that it somehow blocked her from admission to their circles of friendship. Thus far the only conclusion she could draw from this predicament was that she had some serious self esteem issues that she didn’t want to talk about and so that prevented her from just chilling with the boys. Or anyone for that matter. Regardless of this internal argument, there was no doubt she was desperately excited to see her old friends and simultaneously terrified out of her mind that they wouldn’t accept her back in the way they once had. 

After her family had moved away from the Outer Banks, she’d kept in minimal contact with the Pogues, mostly John B, Pope being unable to not write entire novels in emails and JJ simply repetitively forgetting to call. As years passed and vague social media interaction became their only form of communication, another girl, Kiara took her place, becoming the token Pogue girl. Willa wanted to be utterly annoyed by this girl and dislike her wholly, but even from a social media standpoint, Willa knew she’d probably love getting to know this girl and that they’d be the best of friends. She hoped. 

She hoped a lot of things as she finished unpacking the last items. The little record collection was last, propped up on the coffee table in the little living room, the records themselves haphazardly laying flat. She cringed at that, but she’d transported them in an Amelia Earhart brand suitcase and thought they were best stored  _ not  _ inside that. 

Willa surveyed her final result in near darkness given that they’d just lost power and likely wouldn’t have generators until morning. She hoped they would have power in the morning. She hoped to see her friends. She hoped they’d welcome her. She hoped she would fall back in rhythm with them and not only have a friendship based on friendship of days past. She hoped for a happy summer. She hoped for adventure. She hoped for the liveliness she’d been missing. She hoped. 


	3. Gatsby

Willow slept excellently that night, vaguely recalling something about pressures in storms making for the calming atmospheres for sleep. 

The island was trashed, she could tell even from this limited vantagepoint of the hotel windows. It was probably nearing noon, but with a dead phone, still no power and jet lag, it was impossible to tell. No one had come in search of her yet so likely it wasn’t too far into the afternoon. 

After carefully stashing her old fashion room key on a chain around her neck, leaving her feeling like a tragically lonely renaissance noblewoman, she ventured downstairs to find the hotel busy with activity. Staff hurried to and fro while recently arisen patrons ambled aimlessly. She saw no one she knew and was instantly reminded of the classic times of childhood where being ‘ignored and neglected’ meant that one could do whatever one wanted. As such, she took the opportunity to reacquaint herself with the hotel and adjust to the changes that had occurred since last being here. A self guided tour through the kitchens rewarded her with some day old pastries and concluded when the library welcomed her home, its aging armchairs one of the few pieces of furniture that had not been altered. 

Engrossed in a copy of  _ The Great Gatsby  _ that she remembered being one of the first pieces of classic literature she ever read, she didn’t hear her mother calling until she poked her head in the room.

“The library? Of course! I should have just started here.”

“Sorry Mom! I got caught up in these absolutely  _ riveting  _ markings I made in this as a child,” Willa laughed holding up the book.

“I’ll have to take a look at it later if you don’t mind. To know what a ten year old thought of Fitzgerald… But now, can you come help do some stuff? We had so much that needed help even before the hurricane,” she said.

Hours later as it neared dinner time the generators kicked in, restoring power to the hotel and gracing its residents with the potential of air conditioning. For the past hour Willa had been attempting to organize the heavily disheveled main office that for some reason had lost all sense of order since Uncle Jack had passed. After having nearly upset her sweating glass of iced tea over the entire guest list, she was leaned back in the obnoxiously large office chair, feet up on the big oak desk as condensation from the drink ran down her arm. She half heartedly shuffled through the schedule of employees, trying to find the most recent one and put them into something that resembled chronological order. 

_ “It’s like Agatha herself swept around this office,”  _ Willa thought, scanning the schedule absently.

Suddenly a name jumped off the page, causing her stomach to lurch for no good reason.

_ “JJ Maybank works here?” _

To add to her surprise, the dial up phone on the desk began to ring, causing Willa to jump as if she’d been electrocuted.

She looked around as if to check and see if anyone else was going to answer it, which she highly doubted, and plucked the receiver from its place. 

“Hello?” she said, phrasing the greeting as a question.

“Hey! This is Pope Heyward speaking, I was wondering if I could speak with Willow Ellis-”  
Willa let out a screech of joy, “Oh my goodness, Pope it’s me!”

Pope let out an equally excited whoop of excitement, “It’s so good to hear your voice pal. I heard you were coming to town soon and was hoping you got in before the hurricane hit? My condolences on Jack too.”

“Thanks. Yeah, we arrived just last night in the midst of it, but I think we’re all fine, we’ve got power now even.”

She heard Pope pull the phone away from his face, “You guys I think we’ve found our new destination of choice for the summer, the hotel has power.”

“That’s cause it’s Kook land,” she heard JJ say. At least she thought it was JJ. Last time she’d seen or heard any of the boys they hadn’t gone through puberty yet, so she couldn’t be sure on voices alone. 

“Really? While sitting in ‘Kook land’ yourself enjoying the Wreck’s hot food, ” she heard someone else say.

“Ya she went full Kook princess on us just like we said all those years ago,” he replied. Willa concluded it was definitely JJ.

“I can hear you!” she laughed into the phone hoping the speaker was loud enough that they might hear her. 

Pope’s voice resumed cutting off the rest of whatever was being said, “Anyways, I was phoning to let you know we’re having a kegger down at the boneyard tonight, maybe in a couple hours if you want to come.”

“A kegger?”

“Yeah you know like-”

“Yes, Pope I know what a kegger is. But like how did you get the alcohol-”

“If you don’t ask those questions, you won’t get answers that you don’t like. Or at least that’s been my philosophy.”

“Pope!”

“Let’s just say the little innocent kids you left are not the same ones you’re coming home to.”

And that, Willa realized, was exactly what she was afraid of. 


	4. Movie Moment

After scrutinizing her appearance for far too long and indulging in perhaps too many more cups of coffee to offset the jetlag, Willa made her way to the Boneyard. It wasn’t far but she was glad she’d chosen to bring her skateboard with her to the island. The skateboard was the one relic of the island that had always remained a part of her. Since she no longer surfed regularly, she’d transferred those skills to four wheels instead of waves. Admittedly, she had been awful at maneuvering the board for a long time, but eventually she’d figured it out. At this point she guessed she was better on a skateboard than a surfboard given that it had been so long since she’d last been on the water. The thought filled her with dread at getting roasted by the locals after she inevitably wiped out repetitively.

The color had begun to fade from the sky as she picked her way through the Boneyard and down to the water, searching for her friends. Anxiety twisted in her stomach but she forced out a couple deep even breaths and trained her eyes on the large gathering of people. She saw faces that were distantly familiar and a couple people even greeted her by name, but still no sightings of childhood bestfriends. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she spotted the girl whom she knew to be Kiara. As she ventured closer she could see that John B was by her side, clearly only half listening to whatever she was saying. 

“John B!” she called out.

He turned at the sound of her voice and his face lit up.

“Willow!” he exclaimed and jumped up, coming to run up to her, “You’re back!”

_ “Here’s my movie moment,”  _ Willa thought as they ran at each other through the deep sand, ready to be enveloped in a bone crushing hug. 

And it was her movie moment. Up until a mop of blonde hair appeared out of nowhere and side tackled her in a far more aggressive hug. 

“JJ!” she screeched as they both lost their balance and tumbled into the sand. 

“My bad!” JJ laughed in response. 

Before they even had a chance to consider removing themselves from the ground John B launched into their gaggle of arms and legs, Pope joining the fray seconds later. 

Half sitting, her arms pinned to her sides in a hug, legs squished under the weight of the boys and chest burning with laughter, the four old friends made quite the scene out of their reunion.

“Is this really how you treat someone who was supposedly your best friend? Tackle her to the ground and render her trapped? Remind me never to have a reunion with any of you guys,” Kiara’s voice interrupted humorously.

This prompted the boys to spring up and haul Willa off the ground. She nearly collided her face with JJ’s with the force of their delight to introduce the two girls. 

“Kie, this is Willow. Willow, this be Kiara,” John B related.

Willa awkwardly stuck her hand out in greeting, “It’s so wonderful to meet you!”

Kiara bypassed the hand gesture and wrapped her in a hug as well, “I’ve heard so much about you! You can call me Kie. It’s so good to finally meet you and find out if you’re as wild as the boys say you are.”

“I don’t know who they’ve been telling you about, but I was definitely never the wild one,” she said, sending a side eye in JJ’s direction. 

“Ah, that is the typical way with them boys isn’t it, exaggerative to a fault.”

“Right!”

“See I told you they’d get along excellently,” Pope said in a satisfied tone.

“What makes you think we wouldn’t?” Willa asked with a little smile.

“I don’t know, I just sorta feel bad that I kinda sorta took your place...” Kiara said, slightly uncomfortable. 

As much as Willow had in fact felt that was the case, she saw now that it was clearly not in the least going to be a strain on their friendships, “Absolutely not. Someone had to keep order on this island. And it sure wasn’t going to be any of them.”

“Hey!” John B defended, “We are perfectly good without any  _ women  _ involved,” 

“John B, the only time you drink non-expired milk in your cereal is when I remind you to replace it,” Kiara replied.

“She’s right you know,” JJ grinned, “the other day I tried to have cereal and there were things floating in it that  _ definitely  _ were not Lucky Charms.”

“Let me guess,” Willa interjected, “they also live on a diet of mostly cereal and stale peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

“Yeah, like seriously are we twelve?” Kiara laughed. 

“This is going to be great isn’t it? They are just going to roast us for our eating habits all summer aren’t they?” Pope said. 

Willa grinned and Kiara nodded.

“Fine, but only as long as I’m allowed to roast you for your probably pretty out of whack surfing skills,” JJ said.

Willa blushed deeply, “Yeah...about that….”

“We’ll get you back going in no time,” Kiara promised. 

“Anyway, welcome back to the Outer Banks Willow. Care for a drink?” JJ asked, plucking a red solo cup from a nearby stack and strolling the short distance to the keg to fill it.

“No thanks?”

“Okay then. If you won’t I will,” he said as he shrugged and downed half the cup expertly. 

Willa raised her eyebrows and JJ caught her questioning glance and grinned with mischievous eyes. 

It became clear as the night went on that Willow Ellis was inherently out of her element. Deep down, the roots of her childhood friends and memories were there, they were present and laughing with her, but altered in such a way that she had not tracked with. Pope, as always, was most adherent to societal rules, the rule follower as ever, but even in him there was an inherent sense of wild teenage glee and possibility for mischief. 

Mischief did conclude that night, if mischief can even be so kind of word to be used. Under cover of darkness the fight between Sarah Cameron’s boy and John B began just as quickly as it started, scattering all remaining onlookers into the edges of the boneyard and beyond.

Willa was completely taken back by this behavior and didn’t even want to know where JJ had procured a gun and wasn’t offered any answers to the many questions burning in her head. While Kiara and Pope helped to clean up any trash remaining on the beach with a couple others that had stayed behind after the incident, Willa helped John B to usher JJ home. One arm looped over each of their shoulders as they took him to the old, beat up van and she determined that there was far more going on here than just erratic behavior, something else was afoot. Both boys seemed hesitant to release any information to her, even JJ in his somewhat incoherent, exhausted state. 

After quietly delivering JJ home, John B offered to take Willa home, but given that they were nearly halfway across the island at this point, it was concluded that the better option was to take the extra bed at the Chateau for the night. Or possibly the couch. 

The moonlit sky served well in displaying the damage the hurricane had done to the Chateau and surrounding land, but the house itself was intact, exactly the same as she remembered it.

“You know that this is the only place I’ve been so far that hasn’t changed at all?” she said as John B killed the engine to the van.

“With the exception of a hurricane or so to rearrange the landscaping and the fact that I drive the van instead of my dad hauling us around in it, yeah, it’s pretty much the same.”

“I’m glad. It’s a relief to be back to something familiar. Like home.”

John B smiled warmly as they went inside, rummaging through a disheveled closet for an extra set of sheets.

She halfheartedly interrupted his search, but he insisted, “Dude I don’t even know the last time I washed anything other than clothes in this house since Dad disappeared. They definitely need to be changed regardless of who is sleeping there.”

“Thanks I think?”

“Sleep well Willow. It’s good to have you back,” he grinned, unceremoniously handing her the change of sheets and leaving her standing in the empty living room. 


	5. Transportationless

Willow woke to the sound of a woman’s voice speaking, followed by a drowsy response from John B. From the snippets of conversation she heard as the woman surveyed the house, there indeed was far more troubling the Pogues than they had originally let on. 

She stared at the ceiling hoping that this woman would leave without coming into the room and discover that not only was John B an unsupervised minor, he also had a half clothed minor sleeping in his extra bedroom. 

“Sorry bout that. Hope she didn’t wake you,” John B said poking his head into the room.

“Nice shiner ya got there.” 

He just shrugged, “I think Kie leaves some like, I don’t know, ‘girl things’ in the bathroom if you need. She probably won’t mind if you borrow her extra clothes either.”

“Thanks. Also what’s that about a boat? And Scooter Grubbs dead?”

John B sighed and shrugged, “I guess you’ll have to know. And there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. You are a Pogue afterall.”

“You know qualifying people as Pogue or Kook was funny in grade school, but now it’s just weird.”

“Weird maybe? But effective? Yes,” he said making finger guns at her. 

All morning Willa fretted that her parents would start to wonder where she was if she didn’t make some sort of contact with them, but after hearing the real reasoning behind everyone’s seemingly erratic behavior, she would have been hard pressed to ditch her friends in favor of appeasing her parents. To that end, she soon found herself in the  _ HMS Pogue  _ with Ward Cameron’s stolen, or as John B preferred, ‘borrowed’ scuba gear as they discreetly sped toward the location of this supposed shipwreck. It was not that she doubted that there was a shipwreck, she more doubted its significance to acquiring anything of value. 

“Diver down?”

“See ya dude,” JJ said bluntly as John B vanished below the surface.

Heavy silence descended on the four as they anxiously awaited his return. That is, until a police patrol came into view.

“Yep, that’s the police,” JJ said somewhat sarcastically.

“Just act frickin’ normal,” Kiara emphasized, knowing that not a single person in the boat acted normal when they were actually acting normal. 

“You know the marsh is closed?” the man Willa vaguely recalled as being Deputy Shoupe asked, “And good to see you Willow, good to have you back.”

“Kook princess,” JJ coughed indiscreetly. At least that was in character.

Shoupe chose to ignore JJ and his commentary and proceeded to spend what felt like an excruciatingly long time investigating the boat. Eventually he sped away and another eternity seemed to pass before John B’s head broke the surface. That relief was short lived.

“Hey guys? Bogey, two o’clock,” Kiara warned. 

“I think we should get a move on, they are coming in hot,” Willa noted. 

Even as they pulled out of range of the incoming vessel, Willa could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Before she even had time to process the strangeness of the situation, they were being chased across the marsh but gun wielding strangers. 

“We’re gonna die,” Pope said matter of factly.

“You know, I really do agree this is not an ideal situation,” Willa agreed as they sped across the marsh, her voice cracking. Fortunately for them, Kiara was secretly the real brains of the operation and managed to tangle the pursuers boat in an old net. 

Back on the dock, disappointment shrouded the night at only finding the compass enclosed in the bag, but a heavy sense of mystery permeated the air at the fact that John B’s supposedly dead father’s compass was on another dead man’s boat. 

As they ventured back to the Chateau and dusk fell, the van maintained a silent atmosphere, John B deep in thought, the rest of them harrowed from the day’s adventures. 

Still on the far side of the island, Willa dreaded the consequences of spending yet another night at the Chateau, whether that be the anger of her parents or day two and half of untamed hair vibes. Before she had a chance to voice this mildly problematic issue that was more of an annoyance than anything else, JJ spoke up.

“Willow, I actually have to work a late shift at the hotel tonight if you want a ride back. Since you’re transportationless at the moment?”

“I’m only long distance transportationless. Short distances a skateboard works excellent-”

“Oh forget I asked then-”

“I’m kidding. I would appreciate it.”

As it turned out, however much she did appreciate the offer, being on the back of a decrepit dirt bike was not the way she wished to die.

“Are you sure it’s safe for both of us to ride this?” she asked skeptically, standing safely away from JJ as he beckoned for her to get on.

“No.”

“JJ-”

“It’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Fine but if I die, you have to give the eulogy at my funeral.”

“Who says I won’t be dead too?”

“Just the universe. It always leaves the more annoying people alive.”

“I am not annoying. Not in the least,” JJ pouted, turning his nose up from her.

“If you say so,” she said, hesitantly getting on behind him, heart beating out of her chest. She decided she only felt this nervous due to not having ever ridden a dirtbike before, and not because it was JJ whom she was riding with. Or perhaps because it  _ was  _ JJ she was riding with and she didn’t trust his driving. 

“I’d advise you to hold on to me. And don’t let your leg touch that. It’s the exhaust and it will burn you.”

“Thanks,” Willow said somewhat sarcastically, without knowing why she was being sarcastic. Something about being around these people again had turned her into the snarky ten year old version of herself. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either.

“I’m just looking out for your safety-”

“If you were looking out for my safety you wouldn’t allow me to ride with you.”

Willow could imagine the eyeroll he made in response was highly dramatic. Without any further warning he knocked away the kickstand, revved the engine and started away from the Chateau causing Willow to throw her arms around his waist in order to avoid being thrown off. She felt him give a deep chuckle at her reaction and suddenly became acutely aware that her arms were locked in a death grip around his waist. To be fair, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this interaction, other than the fact that her heart continued to beat wildly out of control even as it became clear that she was not in any significant danger due to JJ’s driving. 


	6. Main Character

Moving through the night air offered great relief from the sticky warmth of the evening. Wind blew through JJ’s hair, tousling it into her face and she imagined that hers whipping around both their heads was significantly less pleasant than the slight tickle his made against her face. 

“This must be what the main character feels like,” Willow said.

“The what?” JJ yelled back over the sound of the rushing air and engine. 

Willow mentally cursed herself for saying that outloud, “The main character you know? How in books the main character always goes on all sorts of adventures?”

“How is this any more of a main character than anything else you’d do?”

“Because I don’t do things like this. Riding dirt bikes or nearly getting killed and generally stirring up trouble? Not something my vibe.”

She sensed she’d been sent another dramatic eye roll.

“You know, I’ve only been on this island for what? Forty eight hours? And I’ve been offered alcohol, nearly been arrested, been shot at and am likely to have my mother yell at me for being seen riding on the back of a dirtbike with a boy.”

“To be fair, we were not even close to dying  _ or  _ being arrested.”

“I would argue dying was definitely a possibility today-”

“And you say that like you didn’t at least  _ sort of _ enjoy yourself.”

“Sure I did, heart racing, fingers tingling, wide eyes sort of enjoyment where I  _ might  _ die at any moment…”

“And I’m sure that if your mother knew I was the boy driving the dirtbike you were riding she would feel better.”

“Hmm nope,” Willow said popping the ‘p’ just to annoy him, “I think she would definitely feel worse.”

They pulled up to the back of the hotel, JJ unceremoniously parking the bike. Willow hopped off, forgetting to note the exhaust pipe as instructed. She gave a shriek of pain as the metal touched her skin, leaving a blistering red mark branded on her leg.

“Dude I told you to mind the exhaust!”

“And apparently I didn’t!” Willow snapped, eyes watering.

JJ sighed, “Let me look.” 

“Fine.”

“No need to be snarky bro. Anyways,” he said surveying her calf, “you barely even touched it. It will probably barely even blister over. Just run it under cold water for a while and then I don’t know, sterilize it or something.”

“Thanks street medic.”

“You’re very welcome,” JJ said and bowed, “and also, see, now you have a physical mark of being the main character. Side characters don’t get exhaust pipe burns from shitty dirt bikes.  
“So you admit that your bike is a piece of garbage?”

“No I said it was shitty, there’s a difference.”

“Oh?” Willow said skeptically as they entered the hotel.

“See, shitty implies that it was once good, but now is just out of date and needs a little extra care. But, piece of garbage implies that it has and always will be worthless.”

“Okay.”

“Shitty is definitely the way to describe it.”

“Whatever.”

“Admit it, shitty is the way to go.”

“Fine. That’s the way to go”she said shrugging as they reached the place where they’d part paths. JJ leaned on the wall in front of her, backpack slung on one shoulder.

“You’re avoiding saying shitty.”

“Am I?”

JJ smirked, “You’ve turned into that type that doesn’t swear haven’t you?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well I dunno. Say the bike is shitty.”

“The dirtbike is…… shitty,” she said, the profanity stumbling out of her mouth.

“Willow Ellis, I don’t want to hear you saying words like that while you’re under my roof!” her mother said, suddenly appearing around the corner.

JJ held in a snicker by pretending to cough; albeit dramatically, causing Willow’s mother to glare at him.

“And who is this? Influencing you to speak like that!” she said hauntily, hands on her hips.

“Literally JJ, Mom.”

“Hey Mrs. Ellis,” JJ said, extending his hand politely in greeting. 

Willow’s mother’s tone changed immediately, “JJ so wonderful to see you! I was noticing you were on the schedule tonight, but I wasn’t sure if it was actually you, because  _ someone _ left condensation rings on the schedule for today,” she said glaring at Willow pointedly. 

Willow pursed her lips and didn’t make eye contact. 

“Well, gotta go Mrs. Ellis. Professional busboy business to attend to,” he grinned at Willow, “Don’t forget to take care of that burn.”

“Burn? What burn?” her mother’s eyes flew wide as JJ fast walked down the hall.

“It’s nothing Mom,”

“If JJ actually remembers to mention it, he’s either taunting you or it's actually a very large concern.”

“Definitely option A.”

“Let me see.”

“Fine,” Willow said, offering out her calf.

“Willow,” she said skeptically, “why does this look exactly like an exhaust pipe burn?”

“No reason…”

“We’ve been on this island for like three days, half of which I don’t see you for and you come back after riding a motorcycle-  
“Dirtbike,” Willow corrected.

Her mom glared, steering her toward the old set of basement kitchens.

“Same safety hazard.”

“You know I really did tell JJ that before I agreed to ride here with him.”

“You rode here on the road. On a dirtbike,” she deadpanned. 

“Maybe…”

Her mother sighed and motioned for Willow to get up on the counter and stick her leg in the cracked sink for running under cold water, just as had been suggested by the nefarious street medic.

“What else did you get up to?”

“Nothing, just the usual island things. Good to see the boys ya know.”

“Certainly good to  _ see  _ them,” her mother said looking at Willow meaningfully.

“You should see John B, he’s a looker too,” she said with as straight a face as possible.

“Oh? But who is prettier?” her mother said with surprise. Joking about pretty boys with her parents was uncharacteristic.

“I’m kidding Mom.”

“Well I’m not. They are both probably wonderful young men who’d be lucky to have a girl like you-”

“Mom, not everything has to be about me having, or rather not having a boyfriend.”

“But don’t you think-”

“Mom, let it go.”

Her mom pouted and tended to Willow’s burn without any further comment on the boys. Instead she moved on to filling Willow in on the details of the hotel.

She was thankful that her mom took the time to doctor the burn because despite not being bad, Willow knew it would probably scar without proper care. However, the conversation about boys put her on edge. It was conversations like this with her parents where they perpetually viewed any interaction with anyone of the male species as being a potential romantic partner that had really done some damage. She knew it sounded dumb, and certainly wasn’t something legitiamtly worth complaining about, but it sure felt real, becuse for as long as she could remember, especially after they’d moved off the island, her parents had talked about all boys she even causally mentioned as being people who potentially were romatically interested. And thus there was always a little voice whispering nonsense ideas in the back of her head. 

As she walked back to her room, Willow resolved that this summer she was going to make a point to be less haunted by the miniscule damages her family had inflicted on her psyche and just ‘act frickin normal.’ As always when she got uptight about something that was as a result of certain practices by her parents, she felt immediately guilty for feeling annoyed; her childhood had been a dream compared to others, people who suffered real abuse, real psychological trauma, other obstacles, and here she was, middle class white girl complaining about how her parents had accidentally convinced her all boys were romantically interested in her despite her never having had a boyfriend.

“ _ Classic patriarchy bullshit,”  _ she thought as she entered her room. She was greeted by her reflection in her bathroom mirror looking like she’d stood in the middle of the ocean on an open boat during Agatha. 

“Also classic patriarchy that I can’t just leave my hair wind tousled like the boys and still look like I’m the love interest in the romcom,” she muttered to her reflection. 


	7. Dictionary For Breakfast

Sleeping without any intention of waking by a certain time and not once even considering setting an alarm to rise by was far out of Willow’s vocabulary, but since arriving back on the island, that seemed to be the way it went. Thus far her parents had necessitated her presence at the hotel significantly less than she’d thought they would, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. When she rose the morning following the harrowing adventures in the marsh she ventured out of her room first thing in search of breakfast given that she could barely remember the last time she’d consumed something substantial. As she stepped out in what constituted an outfit probably not fit to walk around a five star hotel in, paper crackled underfoot. There was no signature, but given that his handwriting had evidently remained the same since the third grade, there was not doubt who the note was from:

_ “Wreck. Noon. Come prepared to be the main character”  _

Willow smiled at the note. She guessed she shouldn’t find it endearing that they were passing notes like children when it was only as a result of the down cellphone towers, but still, the messy handwriting on hotel stationary certainly concreted the fact that she was fully welcome back into Pogue life. 

However, after rushing to make it to the  _ Wreck  _ relatively close to the time specified, and this time coming prepared with essentials that would last longer than just an afternoon’s worth of adventures, she found herself perched alone on a barstool in an otherwise empty restaurant. Kiara’s father had told her he hadn’t even seen Kiara all morning, let alone her ‘hooligan friends’. Willow nursed a strawberry lemonade and considered that given all else, JJ had likely just forgotten what he’d told her, but the forgetfulness still left an empty feeling in her stomach and the anxiety she’d been swallowing wormed her way back to the forefront of her mind. 

Hours passed, but nobody seemed to mind Willow with her book open on the bar, now sipping iced latte after considering that if she  _ was  _ to be included in any adventures today, they’d likely be far enough into the night that coffee would be a necessity. The current read,  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray  _ by Oscar Wilde in no way reflected the vibe of the island but there was always some solace in reading the works of past masters and becoming lost in their words. 

“Dad!” Kiara’s voice called from outside, startling Willow out of nineteenth century London, “Do we have any- oh, hey Willow.”

“Hey Kie.”

“Interesting choice of book for a nice summer day, but ya know I dig it.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“Are you just here or-?”

“Well, long story. Actually no, short story. JJ left a note for me to meet you all here at noon.”

“Oh,” Kiara deflated somewhat from bouncing on the balls of her feet, “I’m sorry, I totally wish I’d seen you on my way out, you wouldn’t believe what we’ve been doing all morning.”

“Yeah me too.”

Kiara pulled a stool up to the bar after serving herself a glass of water, “I’d apologize for JJ, but that’s just how he is, so it wouldn’t really be sincere.”

“ I know. I’m not offended. It’s just weird to be back after so much time away. And find them all still best friends and now I’m like, I don’t know, third wheeling or something.”

“Maybe, I don’t know, not really. They are probably a lot different than when you left though. A lot of things have changed in the last couple years. Last couple months even.”

“That’s what I mean though, I haven’t been here for them through all this hard stuff and now I’m just back expecting to be included in their little adventures, that like aren’t even little, they go on hardcore adventures.”

Kiara laughed, “I don’t think they are ‘hardcore’ but we certainly know how to have a good time.”

“We got shot at and nobody but me thinks that’s a big deal?”

“Just vibin ya know? Island vibes?”

“That seems to be everybody’s excuse for anything that ever happens,” Willow said rolling her eyes. 

For the rest of the afternoon Willow lounged in the  _ Wreck  _ helping with various tasks and letting Kiara fill her in on all that had occurred in the years since she’s left. Willow contented herself with simply hearing the tales for the rest of the evening until Pope unceremoniously popped in insisting that they join in on the adventure. She immediately wanted to join but given Kiara’s body language and clear hesitance she decided to support her new friend in being obstantant and continued in spackling the wall.

“What are you doing? Spackling can wait,” John B said loudly moments after Pope left. 

“We’re not going,” Willow said, with a hint of sarcasm, “not really sure why, but we aren’t.”

John B gave Willow an annoyed look as he pulled Kiara away to where she could only hear snippets of conversation.

“I’m sorry about the kiss thing that was super weird-”

“Woah, I’m sorry,” Willow piped up, “what kiss thing? There was a kiss thing? Am I missing something drastically important here?”

Both shot her a ‘be quiet’ look and they continued their conversation apparently coming to some sort of agreement. A few short minutes later they were all crammed into the van.

“So we’re raiding your dead ancestor’s tomb?” Willa asked to confirm the ridiculous sounding plan.

“When you put it that way it sounds bad,” John B said.

“Tombraiders, Outerbanks Edition,” JJ added.

“Less tomb raiding, more investigative detective work,” Pope concluded. 

They lapsed into comfortable silence as John B turned onto the long side road to the cemetery.

“JJ I don’t know what you’re inhaling into your body right but it’s making me physically nauseous, can you please refrain from doing that inside the van?”

“Oh my bad, Ms. Proper-English-I-Had-A-Dictionary-For-Breakfast,” JJ said, not looking the least guilty nor making even the slightest inclination that he was going to appease her request.

“I can quote poetry at you too if you’d like,” Willow grinned, refusing to take jabs from a boy that was high as a kite.

“Oh really now?” 

“We drink the poison our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick,” Willa quoted, Atticus’ words floating an image in her head..

“It’s definitely not that deep,” JJ said.

“Yeah no,” Pope added, “it’s  _ definitely _ not that deep when JJ gets high.”

“Well let’s just pretend it is. It makes everything so much more romantic,” she paused realizing her phrasing was only leading to confusion on their faces, “as in romanticizing your life.”

“I see,” JJ said, “actually I don’t. But maybe I will another day, another time. Anyways, I’m not the one drinking coffee at nine pm.”

Willow raised her eyebrows and grinned, “Coffee has water in it, I’m doing fine.”

JJ raised his joint as if in response to a toast. Willow ‘cheers-ed’ her coffee cup to the joint. The rest of them laughed as they pulled up to the cemetery.

“This place is scary,” Kiara said as they exited the van and surveyed the gated cemetery.

The boys pretended not to hear her but Willow nodded with her as they crept past that gates and through a city of headstones. 

“So, like I said,” John B said, holding up the lantern to the crypt that they had reached at the far end of the field, “Redfield is a person, not a place.”

“Voi-effing-la” JJ said.

In the midst of their attempt to push the door open Willow found herself face to face with a very large snake, causing her to jump back with a scream.

“Jesus Christmas!” she screeched.

“Jesus Christmas?” John B echoed.

“What about Christmas?” JJ asked.

Willa chose to ignore them and instead focused on the far more strange occurrence of JJ as he began to bark at the snake. 

“JJ shut up!” Kiara whisper yelled.

“They’re afraid of dogs, everyone knows that,” JJ said breathless, but continued intermittently barking between the hurried discussion.

“I can get through,” Kiara said slowly, interrupting everyone else’s chatter.

Willow eyed the hole skeptical, but it did look large enough to allow for Kiara’s slight build to pass through. She nodded along with Kiara even as the boys dropped into another discussion about it.

“I’m gonna boost ya, alright. I’ve seen it in the movies so many times.” JJ said. 

To Willow’s immense surprise Kiara made it safely through the opening, although primarily due to her own agility than the helpfulness of the boys. She emerged moments later with a package ‘for bird’.

“Guys, uh, code red, square groupers.” JJ said, his voice rising an octave in the midst of their revolutionary moment.

And they took off running, Pope ripping his pants as they vaulted over the victorian gates like they were in a Scooby Doo episode. It did seem as such. They had two girls who were really the brains of the operation, a pretty boy who thought he was ringleader, and a stoner. Plus Pope. He didn’t quite fit into the algorithm, but close enough, Willow thought. 

Despite the large quantity of coffee she’d consumed, Willow fell silent on the drive back to the Chateau and even upon their discovery of the tape inside the envelope and the following confirmation that somewhere lay hidden four hundred million in gold, she knew she was being far more quiet than the situation called for. Her social interaction tank had been emptied hours ago and she wanted nothing else but to sleep in her bed. By the time silence fell on the Chateau she was exhausted and felt guilty for not being more engaged. Plus, she was annoyed with JJ’s endless chatter. Perhaps that was just as a result of him being substantially less sober than she would have liked, but his commentary throughout the night, funny as it was, had begun to take its toll. 

Now she was barely listening, staring at the ceiling so she could properly fall asleep on the surprisingly comfortable pullout couch she was sharing with Kiara. 

“JJ for the love of God, will you please shut up,” Kiara finally burst out.

“What?” he said, sounding like a wounded puppy.

“You’ve been nonstop chatter since the moment we got home. Go sleep,” Willow said. 

“Hmm,” he said and he was quiet for so long Willow thought he’d finally fallen asleep. In the momentary silence she reflected on the day. 

This morning finding the note under her door seemed like an eternity ago. In that short eternity she’d found out some things about the island that perhaps she’d forgotten on purpose; they way the time passed unrealistically, the way high school boys smoked weed like it was going out of style, the way no one cared what they did as long as they didn’t impede on adult life, the way the wealth gap wreaked havoc on the island. Everything was taking shape in her mind, things that her ten year old self didn’t care to take note of. Everything was falling into place just as it had when they were kids. This time though John B was essentially an orphan, Pope was fighting to get out of poverty through academia and JJ was more damaged than she’d ever imagined he would be. The childhood bestfreinds were still there but changed. For Pope and John B they had harnessed their pain in seemingly better ways, but JJ had let it convulse in him, just pretending it wasn’t there. Willow had only a vague recollection of what the source of his injury was, as her childhood memories were shrouded by sheltered naivety. Nevertheless, it was driving her up the wall, his recklessness and abandon of how his actions might affect others or even himself. Still, his laughter was infectious and Willow wanted to make sure she was paying attention each time he smiled and the light went all the way to his eyes. 

“Willow?” JJ interrupted the silence, startling her out of her half sleep.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I made fun of you earlier for eating a dictionary for breakfast.”

Willow smiled into the darkness, “But what if I did? I  _ was  _ reading Oscar Wilde over lunch. He’s essentially a dictionary.”

“Oh. Well then, sorry for making sound like a bad thing.”

“Thanks JJ.”

“Yeah,” he was quite for another long moment and Willow drifted to the edge of sleep, “Goodnight Willow.”

“Night,” she mumbled, falling into a dream where just on the edges of her mind she wished JJ was a little closer and had an arm wrapped around her.


	8. Doe Eyes

Kiara and Willow sped away from the salvage yard with John B and Pope hunkered down in the backseat. A nervous silence had settled over the four without their remaining companion.

“Do you think JJ will be okay?” Kiara asked quietly.

“Yeah. JJ can lie his way out of anything,” John B said although his facial features still had concern etched on them. 

Pope nodded earnestly in agreement and Willow stared out the window, a crease forming between her eyebrows as the world flew by outside. 

“How’s the camera look?” Willow asked Pope who was inspecting it as they drove.

“Well, I’d say that it is first a drone then a camera. But yeah, looks good. I think it will serve our purpose nicely.”

“You sound like you’re in the mafia,” Kiara said. 

“But does the mafia give their drones pet names? I don’t think so.”

“It has a name?” Willow laughed.

“Yeah, he’s called Ferd.”

“Ferd?” Kiara deadpanned.

“Yeah.” 

“No explanation for that? Just Ferd?”

“Yup, I just thought it up right now,” Pope said.

They arrived at the rendezvous point, an abandoned boat storage that on foot wasn’t far from the salvage yard if you cut through property, but was a good twenty minute drive by car. 

“How long do you think it will take JJ-” John B started, but was interrupted by JJ appearing through the bushes.

“Yo JJ how’d it go?” Pope asked immediately.

“You guys, I deserve an Oscar for the performance I gave, I am a real wicked good actor.”

Kiara raised her eyebrows and JJ proceeded to give them a play by play of how he’d escaped without punishment. JJ thought it was funny, the rest of them looked only mildly surprised, and Willow was aghast that he joked so lightly about the abuse he’d suffered. 

“Now, anyone up for surfing?” JJ concluded.

Willow turned red immediately at her impending embarrassment, earning a laugh from everyone.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let you drown,” Kiara giggled, trying to be supportive and not laugh. But it was kinda funny.

“Maybe just a little bit,” JJ put in.  
Willow frowned but did not need convincing to get in the water and try her hand at surfing after half a decade of not doing so. She wasn’t afraid of the water, in fact she loved it, that was something she’d never lost. Instead it was just that legitimately surfing was a skill that required upkeep.

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” Pope assured her, “you’ll remember as soon as you get out there.”

They paddled out John B and JJ leaving them almost immediately to go show off. 

“They’re being extra on purpose. Don’t worry,” Kiara assured, “the other day JJ wiped out so hard we really did think he’d drowned.”

“Lets avoid drowning,” Willow said.

Pope and Kiara laughed and Willow went on her way to ride some waves. Several wipe outs later she was able to stand up and ride one out. Then another and another.

“See? Just like Pope said, just like riding a bike,” John B said. 

“Yeah like a three year old riding a bike,” Willow laughed, “do you see my knees, literally wobbling everywhere.” 

“Yeah you look like you’ve had one too many drinks perhaps,” JJ interjected.

“Thanks JJ.”

“Your welcome,” he said and reached out to knock her off her board as they paddled out again. The five continued their foolishness until the sun began to sink low behind the rise of the island and rays of light no longer extended out over the ocean.

“Anyone down for food? I’m absolutely famished,” Kiara said. 

“Yeah for sure, you got any ideas?” John B asked.

“I’m suspecting business was slow again at the Wreck, and that food either gets thrown out, or we eat it.” 

“Sign me up,” Pope said enthusiastically and they began back toward shore. 

Too long later for everybody’s liking after a full afternoon of surfing and morning of robbery, the friends found themselves seated comfortably in the  _ Wreck  _ picking between the wide variety of leftovers front the day. 

Willow started to feel drowsy after eating so much rich food and she slumped in the corner, head resting in her hands as she watched and halfheartedly listened to the conversation between the other four. Someone had put some music on and John B and Kiara were dancing. Dancing may have been a strong word because neither of them were all that great of dancers, not bad, just not great. She laughed along with JJ and Pope’s peanut gallery banter at the obvious chemistry between Kie and John B and wondered if there really was more to the story. 

Suddenly JJ waved a hand in front ofWillow’s face.

“What?” she said and snapped out of her contemplation zone and refocused her eyes. 

“I’ve been calling your name and you’re just over there staring off into infinity. Whatcha thinkin ‘bout?” JJ asked.

“My brain hums with scraps of poetry and madness,” Willow quoted.  
JJ raised his eyebrows.

“Virginia Woolf,” Willow said.

“Ah obviously,,” JJ grinned, “now that I have your attention, do you care to dance?” he finished, and for good measure bowed low and offered his hand.

Willow giggled and shook her head, “Sure?”

“Yes, you definitely want to dance with him, he’s worse than all of us combined,” John B called across the room.

“Well, I am an excellent dancer,” Willow laughed and grabbed JJ’s outstretched hand.

“Uh huh,” Pope said, sounding doubtful.

“Well okay fine, sort of. After my parents forced me to take ballet and then I was  _ terrible  _ at it, I took swing dancing lessons instead.”

“But you were  _ so _ bad at ballet first-” JJ said, teasing.

Willow glared and JJ laughed as he hauled her to her feet. She tried to teach him a few of the steps she still remembered, but after a dozen tries she found that it was hopeless and she gave up and instead made a fool of herself dancing to the music. The night faded into complete darkness more quickly than she would have imagined it could and soon John B and Pope were leaving. Kiara ushered them outside, and sent a wink Willows’s way as she did so. Willow frowned at her.

A last slow song ventured through the radio static, filling the room. 

“One more song?” JJ asked softly.

Willow smiled warmly and accepted his request. Kiara’s wink as she’d left the room stood foremost in her mind and she had to physically imagine swiping it away to get it off her mind.

JJ lazily spun them around the room, both of them barefoot and careful to avoid the rough edges and corners the  _ Wreck  _ housed. It was not exactly dancing, and they certainly were not waltzing, but the slow parade of the room was reminiscent of ancient traditions of girls falling in love with handsome boys. She was acutely aware of how close he was and that she could hear his heart beating in his chest. She wondered if he could hear hers, its wild hammering at every step they took around the restaurant. The song ended and they stopped their spinning. He didn’t let go of her and she didn’t let go of him. She looked up at him and for a still moment, everything else faded away except his sparkling eyes staring back into hers. 

The moment lasted far longer than it should have for them being bestfriends, practically siblings in the way they knew each other, and JJ suddenly blinked like he’d forgotten where he was and fell into an awkward state as he pulled away from her.

Before either of them had a chance to comment on the moment, Kiara padded back in and Willow had a sneaking suspicion that she’d been waiting for the exact right moment to come back in.

“Well JJ you’d better be going, the rest of tonight is a girls only sleepover.”

“That’s right, no boys allowed,” Willow said sarcastically.

JJ pretended to look offended, “Okay fine then.”

As soon as JJ was ushered out the door and properly out of earshot, Kiara turned excitedly to Willow.

“So what’s the tea? There was definitely almost something there? But then there wasn’t and he didn’t kiss you. Because he soooo could have. That was an opportune moment.” 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Yes you do, don’t lie, you like him don’t you?”

“We’re all just friends Kie. No Pogue on Pogue macking. I should be the one asking these questions anyways. What was that earlier about John B kissing you?”

“Oh that’s nothing. Maybe emotions I have to deal with later, but really not important. Clearly it’s not gonna work out right now. I don’t know. But you and JJ, now that could really be a topic-”

“I don’t think-”

“Don’t think about it then,” Kiara said slyly, “you didn’t have to  _ think _ about getting yourself into that situation and there you were slow dancing with the prettiest island boy on the East Coast and very nearly kissing him-”

Willow threw her hands up exasperated. A gnawing anxiety was creeping into her stomach just talking about this topic of liking boys and kissing them, no matter who it was, let alone JJ. She hadn’t kissed anyone before and the very prospect of doing so made her feel like passing out. And if, that was a big if, she did acknowledge this ghost of affection that was forming in the back of her head, it would only complicate the group dynamic.

“I don’t know Kie, I don’t think that I would really be in a place where getting involved with someone, let alone JJ, would be good for me.”

“You just say that because you’re afraid you’ll mess it up.” She said it as if it were a fact rather than a question to ponder.

“Sure whatever, but I don’t even know if I actually like him or if he likes me or-”

“You’re overthinkin’’ it girly. If I know anything about JJ, it’s that if he likes you, he won’t let you just pass by.”

“Maybe that’s exactly the reason I don’t want to get involved,” Willow started with a frown. By this time they had gotten ready for bed and now were propped up on pillows having this discussion. Willow had to admit, it was kind of thrilling to have a downright gorgeous boy potentially interested in her.

“But that’s the question. Because just tonight that boy came  _ so  _ close to kissing you. There was a whole moment. He looked stunned by you. But then he didn’t. So Why didn’t he?”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to and he’s just being a normal person who just is dancing and having a good time.”

“Willow, not to seem like I  _ was  _ intruding on your moment with him, and I promise not to do it again, but, the point is, JJ doesn’t look at everyone with doe eyes like that.”


End file.
